


Sometimes Hate Is Not Enough

by heartsdesire456



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Married Couple, Murder, Revenge, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, Temporary Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: When he destroyed Oculus and was vaporized into time itself for his stupid act of heroics, Len had been trapped in a dreamscape. It had been the time stream, in the form of his long-dead mother, that informed him he wasn’t finished shaping the world yet. He had been transported back to his own time and given a second chance to continue life from 2016.His only warning was that he must remember the dates in the future at which the Waverider landed so that he never crossed paths with his other self. He would have preferred a warning that, in 2017, a new criminal he decided to work with since Mick was still off exploring space and time would destroy every happiness he would find for himself only one year after he got his second chance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **The reason there is no Major Character Death warning is because it's - spoiler alert - temporary character death and it's basically in the summary, so obviously it's not a shocker to anybody when someone is killed**. I promise, it has a happy ending, I'm me, if you know me you know I don't DO sad endings.
> 
> Title comes from Running To The Edge of the World by Marilyn Manson. It's a great song, and fits their relationship pretty well. This entire fic was written to a soundtrack of Marilyn Manson, actually. I had that, Four Rusted Horses, Into The Fire, Man That You Fear, and The Nobodies all stuck in my head at various points over the past few days, which is probably why I decided to title it as a song lyric instead of a shitty title like usual.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy? lol

When he destroyed Oculus and was vaporized into time itself for his stupid act of heroics, Len had been trapped in a dreamscape. It had been the time stream, in the form of his long-dead mother, that informed him he wasn’t finished shaping the world yet. He had been transported back to his own time and given a second chance to continue life from 2016. 

His only warning was that he must remember the dates in the future at which the Waverider landed so that he never crossed paths with his other self. He would have preferred a warning that, in 2017, a new criminal he decided to work with since Mick was still off exploring space and time would destroy every happiness he would find for himself only one year after he got his second chance. 

~

Len enjoyed nothing more than a little fun time facing off with The Flash in public. He no longer had his cold gun, but Lisa had let him borrow her gold gun from time to time, and though it was a bit more dangerous to Barry, it wasn’t dangerous to Barry when it was in his hands.

The left one bore a ring that matched the one Barry had on his own, after all.

As the news helicopters circled overhead, spotlights on the near-dark ‘shoot out’ between The Flash and the Rogues in the middle of an empty street outside a bank, The Flash darted around trying to snatch bags of loot from Rogues before they could slip away while Len distracted him. Barry hated it when he actually won, because they had come to an agreement long ago that, as long as Len didn’t hurt people, a win was a win, even if Len was the winner. Barry even praised him occasionally for outsmarting him, which, admittedly, wasn’t very often. Len still enjoyed every single time they won and didn’t hesitate to make sure Barry didn’t take it too seriously by spending a good deal of time on his knees after every win he got.

Len had theories about whether or not a Pavlovian response to losing being equated with blowjobs might make Barry less likely to beat them.

The problem was, Len trusted his team most days. This time, he had brought on a few newbies, wanting to train up some new Rogues. He knew they didn’t know that it was all a joke, but he also never expected them to get smart enough for that to become a problem right up until the moment it did.

It was a moment Len wouldn’t ever forget.

Len was dancing around, taunting The Flash, and having fun, right up until one of his newbies – he purposefully hadn’t learned their names – called out. “Hey, Flash!” Len, who had told everybody he would distract The Flash while they got out of there, turned around, only to freeze when he saw that the stupid kid had a _hostage_ from somewhere – Len had no idea where, since the street was empty that night – and was holding her in front of him. He looked smugly at The Flash. “I wonder what’s faster, you?” He pulled a gun out and put it against the woman’s temple, making her whimper and cry out. “Or this.”

“What are you doing?!” Len demanded, turning to face him. He shook his head rapidly at the kid, who just pressed the gun harder to the woman’s head. “NO, stop. Taking a hostage is messy. They won’t ever let it go if you hurt that hostage! We’ll all be up shit creek, Johnson!”

The guy grinned. “They can’t catch us,” he said. “C’mon, Boss, I got this one, you got that one,” he said, nodding to their guns. “Flash can’t catch both.”

Barry glanced over at Len, and it was clear he knew something had gone wrong. “Hey, you got me, okay?” he said, voice warped by vibrations as he held his hands up. “Let her go. I’m right here, I won’t do anything, just let her go,” he bargained.

Len, Johnson, and The Flash stood in a triangle, Johnson facing off with The Flash while Len stood out to their side, looking at the both of them. He calculated that he could get Johnson if Barry could snatch the hostage. “Johnson, look, it’s a good trade. Just let her go. If you kill her, we’ll get put on death row and we’ll never have a chance to bust out. Don’t fuck this up for me,” Len snapped.

It was the hostage who made the move that sent everything straight to hell, but Len couldn’t fault her for it. She clearly wasn’t as helpless as Johnson had guessed – which made sense if she was out on the streets that time of night – and she swiftly went limp, sliding from under his arms, and then jammed her head upwards into his nose when he tried to hold her. She made a break for it, and Len gestured for the other Rogues to let her go. They all scrambled after that, knowing they had to get out and it was every man for himself at that point.

In the microseconds all of this happened, Barry darted forward to try and grab Johnson, but Johnson shot at him, making him duck out of the way, and Len raised his gun, holding it on Johnson. “It’s time to go. Now,” he said, stalking towards him. He shoved Johnson ahead of him and turned around to throw a mocking salute at The Flash for the cameras, one that Barry rolled his eyes at, but answered with a small, relieved look that only Len could see.

However, in that moment, a shot rang out, and Len jerked around, looking, only to see Johnson holding the gun pointed right at Len. “DID YOU JUST TRY TO SHOOT ME?!” Len cried, stalking towards him, Lisa’s gold gun raised.

Johnson startled. “I- I- fuck!” Johnson dropped the gun and ran, and Len fired off a shot after him that missed. He started to go after him, but the sound he heard behind him stopped him dead in his tracks.

“L-Lenny.”

Len turned around, startled, because Barry knew better than to say his name like that in Flash vs Rogues showdowns. At first he didn’t realize anything was wrong other than Barry’s pale face behind the mask until Barry swayed some and Len’s eyes went to the hand held to his chest.

He immediately darted forward, catching Barry as he fell. His weight took them both down and Len cushioned his fall and then settled him across his knees. “Red, what- you can dodge bullets, what happened?!” he asked frantically, pulling at Barry’s suit. He undid the zipper, shoving Barry’s cowl back so he could unzip it down his chest. He didn’t have time to worry about Barry’s identity when Barry was convulsing in his arms. He shoved the suit open and blood _gushed_ from the wound right over Barry’s heart. His blood ran cold and he slapped his and over the wound. “Barry, Barry, look at me.” He held Barry’s head in his hand, turning him to look at him. “Red, please,” he gritted out, and Barry’s wide, terrified green eyes met his.

“Len, it hurts,” he whimpered, hand scrabbling at Len’s jacket. 

“I know, Barry, just breathe, okay?” he said, looking up and looking around. He saw the police in the distance, but they, as always, had held back from interfering with The Flash’s work. “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!” he shouted, because Barry needed help _now_.

“Lenny, look at me.” Len looked down at Barry instantly, looking at the tear-filled, beautiful green eyes he loved so much. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered, and Len shook his head.

“No, no, Barry, you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna-“

“Love you,” Barry choked out, managing a watery smile. “‘S okay.”

Len’s throat seized up on him and he leaned down, pressing his forehead to Barry’s. “You’re gonna be okay, Barr, it’s okay. I love you too, okay?”

Barry went still, relaxing entirely in his arms as if his strings had been cut, and Len’s entire body went cold. He sat up again and looked down, shaking as he saw _nothing_ in Barry’s eyes as they stared blankly up at where he had just been. “B-Barry?” he whispered, and his entire body started shaking. “Barry!” His fingers twisted in Barry’s hair and he shook his head. “BARRY!” he shouted, only to let out a heaving cry of pain when Barry didn’t respond.

Barry was never going to respond again.

~

They had found Leonard Snart, AKA Captain Cold, sitting and staring ahead blankly with The Flash, who Captain Singh was not at all surprised to discover was their own Barry Allen, lying dead on his lap. Singh hadn’t been on shift that night, but he had been watching the news from home on his phone coordinating with the night shift when his husband shouted his name and he came back to look at the TV and saw, from the vantage of the news helicopters, The Flash lying, very clearly injured, while Captain Cold, inexplicably, appeared to try to help him.

When they finally deemed Cold not a threat at the moment and moved in, he didn’t even react. When he was pulled away from The Flash and hauled off in cuffs, he hadn’t resisted. From what he knew now, Singh heard he hadn’t said a word since then. He had still been on the phone when the news came in down the wire that The Flash was dead.

It wasn’t until he’d arrived at the station that he discovered it was Barry Allen. 

Joe West had been working another case at the station when the fight started, and he’d rushed over. Singh hated knowing that Joe had been there and saw Allen get shot and die. He wouldn’t wish watching your kid be killed on anybody, and it didn’t matter if he was ‘just’ the kid’s foster father, he was Joe’s son in every way that counted. 

Sadly, it was nothing new to lose people. More than a few cops had died while Singh had been with the force over the years. However, it was never techs, and those techs were never superheroes in their downtime. Singh had suspected Allen was the Flash for a while, because while the whole mask thing was smart, it wasn’t exactly helpful to just cover your eyes when the person talking to you was someone who had known you for a long time like he had known Allen. 

Currently, Singh was standing outside the interview room where Snart was sitting, still just as still and silent as he had been all along, cuffed to the table. Singh wasn’t ever one to do interviews himself, it wasn’t in his job description, but he wanted to be there for this one. He wanted to know what the hell had gone down. The response Snart was showing to the death of his nemesis was suspicious, as was the way he had clearly, without any doubt since there were news cameras on them, tried to stop one of his own crew from hurting a hostage. He had seemed angry there was a hostage. It didn’t fit the criminal MO to fight a superhero, but then try to save the hostage his own guy had taken. 

It also didn’t make sense for a criminal like Snart, who was known to have murdered his own father, to be so upset about his nemesis being dead when he himself had been shooting at The Flash as well.

“Where is he?” Singh turned, eyes wide when Joe West came walking down the hall with another detective. “I want to see him.”

Detective Howe sighed. “Look, West, you can’t be on this case and you know it. I’m sorry, I really am, but you can’t-“

Joe stopped at the window, looking in at Snart. “I want to talk to him. I want to know what the- what he-“ Singh reached out, sighing as he patted Joe on the shoulder. Joe looked rough. “His man did this, and I want to know his name. I want to know the name of the bastard that killed my-“ Joe choked off and looked ahead, swallowing hard. “Captain, all I’m asking for is to talk. I don’t want to interfere with the case. I just want answers.”

Detective Howe shook his head. “We can’t let him get off because of incorrect police work, West, I’m sorry-“

“We don’t have anything on him anyways,” West interrupted. “You saw what I did, his records are wiped. There’s nothing in the system. No warrants, not even for his prison break! Correct police work isn’t gonna nail this bastard anyways. Even for that tonight, we can’t prove he robbed that bank because the shit that was stolen is gone, he wasn’t the one to grab it, and police arrived after the shootout with The Flash started, so we can’t tie him to shit anyways!”

Singh looked at Howe. “Look, he’s right. We can let the man have his due. We all cared about Allen, but Joe-“ He shook his head. “He deserves it. I’m allowing it.” He looked at Joe, who gave him a grateful nod. “I’m coming in with you, though. Whatever goes on in there, it’s on me, so I’m gonna be there.” 

When they entered the room, Snart still didn’t react. He was pale, there was still blood on his clothes and on his right hand, and he wasn’t moving other than to breathe and blink. “Leonard Snart. I thought we locked you up in Iron Heights,” Singh said to start.

Snart didn’t react at all and Joe shuffled around, looking at him. “Snart, you’re gonna talk to us about who the man who shot The Flash was, and by God, you’re gonna give me answers.”

Snart still didn’t react. Singh sighed. “Snart, look, I’m gonna be upfront with you.” He sat down across from Snart. “We may not know why, but it was pretty clear you didn’t mean for this to happen tonight. You don’t try to help someone you wanted to die.”

It was frustrating but also a little worrying that Snart wasn’t reacting. “Snart?” Singh waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Snart?” He looked at Joe. “Are we sure he’s not in shock?”

“SNART!” Joe asked, slamming his hands on the table. “You damn well better answer me, Snart, because I know you aren’t in shock. You’re being stubborn and I do not have the patience, Snart.”

They both watched for a few seconds before, finally, Snart moved, and even then, only his lips. “That isn’t my name.”

Singh raised an eyebrow and opened the folder on the table. “Leonard Snart, AKA Captain Cold, that’s what we booked you under-“

“It isn’t my name.”

“Oh?” Singh asked, looking at him. “Then what is your name?” he asked, wondering if they had actually overlooked a mental break and needed to get him medical attention.

Snart finally seemed to crack. Not entirely, but his eyes moved down to his hands, and he turned his left one over, flattening it on the tabletop. He was clearly conscious of where he was, then. “My name is Leonard Allen.”

Joe scoffed. “Look, we don’t have time for your bullshit, just answer our questions, Snart.”

“It’s Leonard _Allen_.” He looked up at Joe and held up his left hand. Singh’s eyes went immediately to the glint on his left hand and, if he hadn’t been sitting, Singh was pretty sure he would’ve fallen over. The implication was clear, and suddenly, everything made entirely less sense than before.

Joe seemed just as confused, and he slowly dragged the other chair out, settling in it heavily. “What- I- that’s not funny.”

Singh decided to test it. “What’s his full name, then? The Flash.”

“Bartholomew Henry Allen, and instead of twenty-questions, you could just check the marriage records,” Snart said in a quiet, even tone, still not reacting to much of anything. “Cisco Ramon was the witness that signed the marriage certificate.”

Joe shook his head. “No. I would know if Barry was _married_ -“

“Three weeks ago,” Snart said. “Iris knows we were seeing each other but she doesn’t know about the marriage. 

Singh looked at Joe, who looked livid, then back at Snart. “Okay- okay.” He exhaled, collecting his thoughts. “Why, if you and Allen were married, were you facing off at a bank robbery with The Flash? Presuming you knew about who he was.”

“Because it’s fun,” Snart said quietly. “I’m better than to get caught. I do it on purpose because Barry likes trying to catch me and make me give back whatever I took.” He closed his eyes momentarily. “Liked,” he whispered and it finally hit Singh that he was _telling the truth_.

“You’re telling me that _The Flash_ was _playing around_ with a criminal mastermind robbing places and hurting people?” Singh asked and Snart shook his head.

“A long time ago, he made a deal with me. Back when we were still enemies. If I didn’t hurt people, he wouldn’t bust me. I kept that deal. I have never been a big fan of violence. I’m a thief, not a murderer. I’m good at stealing things and Barry owed me, even before we- we-“ He closed his mouth and looked away from them, looking at the wall to their left.

Joe huffed. “Yeah, hard to sell that one when you murdered your own father-“

“My father deserved more than death,” Snart said, finally showing some emotion. “You know what he did to me and my sister and that he got away with it because of _cops_ who covered for him so he didn’t get punished every time someone reported him. Hell, you probably even know what he was doing when I killed him. He tried to kill my baby sister after decades free from him, so I killed him,” he said fiercely. “Barry never blamed me for that.”

Singh interrupted before they could start yelling. “Tell me, why did a guy on your crew shoot your husband?”

“They don’t know,” Snart said simply. “My sister does, Cisco Ramon does, and Iris West knows about us being in a relationship, but not about the marriage. Nobody else knows who The Flash is – was – and that I have any relationship with him other than ‘nemesis’.” Snart shook his head. “I gave him my word when I learned who he was a long time ago that I would never betray his secret to anybody. And I didn’t.”

Singh nodded. “Who was the guy with the gun, then?”

Snart stiffened. “I’ll take care of that.”

“No,” Joe said quickly. “You tell us all you know or you’re going to jail.”

“You have nothing on me,” Snart said, leaning forward. “All my records are erased, apart from record of my marriage. No warrants, and you can’t pin anything on me from tonight except getting into a half-assed fight with a vigilante, and vigilantism is illegal anyways, so you can’t get me for shit,” he spat. “You can’t even get me on murdering my father because I already was tried for that, and you can’t get me for breaking out of prison because I was in the meta wing and that’s under secret government agency control.” He shook his head. “I’ll handle this.”

Singh sighed. “Look, Snar-“ He stopped, seeing the angry look and held up his hands. “Look, I get it, okay?” He put a hand on his chest. “I’m married. And to a husband, as well. But you need to go about this the right way. We can arrest this bastard and nail him with murder-“

“And let him sit in prison?” Snart asked. “I don’t think so.”

“He killed my son, my boy,” Joe gritted out, surprising them both by the emotion in his voice, choking on the last word so that his voice became a whimper of pain at the end of his sentence. “I’m not letting this bastard get away because you think you can hunt him down. I don’t give a fuck what your relationship with Barry was, because my _child_ is dead and I want justice-“

“And I want _revenge_ ,” Snart spat suddenly, showing the most animation so far. “Justice is too good for him! My entire life has been forty-five years of _shit_ , and nothing is ever good, never, but Barry is the best thing to ever happen to me, because Barry Allen was _good_ in every way! That kid had every fucking reason to end up like me, but he had a heart and he was honest and brave and everything good in my entire life came down to my sister and Barry and that motherfucker took him from me!” he shouted. “Barry and I only got together eight months ago, and he _loved me_ ,” he choked out. “So just let me go and let me make him pay.” He sneered at Joe. “Don’t you want the man who murdered your son to pay?”

Joe sighed heavily, hanging his head. “By the law, Snart. I want him to pay by the law.”

“My name is not _Snart_.”

Singh nodded solemnly. “Alright, Allen, alright,” he said as he moved to stand. “We’ll give you a minute to think about everything.”

When they got outside, Joe turned to Howe. “Contact Cisco Ramon and see if what he said is true. It’ll be faster than getting the marriage records.”

Singh and Joe both stood at the window, watching as Snart put his hands on the table, palms up, and looked at the blood still staining his hand, shaking as he did so. Singh shook his head. “If he’s telling the truth, he’s been through a lot tonight. Do you think-“

“It’s entirely possible,” Joe said heavily. “Barry… he kept secrets. All the time. Whenever he thought he could protect people he loves.” He looked up. “I know I’m probably gonna have to face some questions on my own about knowing about him being a vigilante.”

Singh chuckled. “You think I didn’t?” he asked, and Joe looked at him in surprised. “C’mon, that mask didn’t hide that much. I looked at that kid every day for a few years, I think I’d be a bad cop if I didn’t recognize him.”

Joe leaned against the glass. “Barry always was adamant that Snart had the capability to be good. Whenever his team tried to write him off, even after the guy hurt a few of them, he always insisted he was good deep down.” He shook his head. “Last I heard, he was off protecting the world with a group of vigilantes, so I guess he does have a good side to him.” 

“Do you believe the crap about being together eight months and married for three weeks, though?” Singh asked. “Barry always struck me as the careful type, not the type to do something like that.”

Joe shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t.”

Singh looked at Snart and hummed. “We have to let him go. We can’t charge him with anything.” Joe nodded. “When he gets out, whether or not he gives us the name of the guy who shot Barry, we probably won’t be able to find the guy before he does, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Joe said, biting his lip. “We got any chance of stopping this guy from killing anyone? Anything we can hold him on?”

Singh shook his head. “I don’t think we can stop him.” He glanced at Joe. “You sure you want to stop him”

Joe grimaced. “Part of me wants to let him go for it, I will admit.” He looked through the window and shook his head. “Another part of me doesn’t blame him, if I’m honest. But that isn’t our jobs.”

“I know what you mean,” Singh said gravely. “If my husband…” He trailed off and shook his head. “But it’s not our job. We bring people to justice the right way.” He watched Snart looking down at his ring and shook his head. “I just hope we can find this guy the right way before he finds him.” 

~

When Len was released, he immediately went and spent two days on a bender. He knew it wasn’t the best course of action, but he wanted to delay the pain as long as he could. It didn’t work, but he could damn well try.

It was Snow that found him, slumped in a booth in the corner of Saints and Sinners, half-off his ass. “What do you want, Little Re-“ He stopped, heart clenching suddenly at the word. He blindly grabbed a shot he had left over and downed it. He curled tighter into the corner of the booth and she just sighed.

“I wanted to see if you plan on going to the funeral.” She shook her head. “Barry was your husband, after all.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s tomorrow morning. He’s being buried with his parents.”

Len grimaced. “Why am I even invited? I’m a criminal, remember?”

Snow frowned. “You’re his family.” She held his gaze for a moment. “Look, it’s a small funeral as it is. Barry Allen meant a lot to those that loved him, but he had very few people who will be at his funeral. Don’t let your husband be buried without you being there.”

Len watched as she stood up and walked away. He grimaced and grabbed his beer bottle, turning it up as he closed his eyes and tried to forget she had even been there.

~

He went to the funeral. He didn’t want to, but Snow had been right. He was Barry’s husband, after all. 

He didn’t go join Barry’s family, though. He hung around the back of the group. There were more people than Snow had thought, but it still wasn’t enough. Not for how many people’s lives Barry had changed. He stood at the back of them all, sunglasses on, head down. He didn’t want to attract attention. The service was simple enough. There were a lot of cops there, which made him twitchy, but it made sense. Barry worked for CCPD, of course a lot of cops would be there. They hadn’t outed Barry as The Flash publicly, but all of his co-workers found out and it was nice to see that they all finally appreciated what kind of person Barry was.

Once the service ended and people started to leave, Len edged around the last few people lingering to give their condolences to the West’s and he walked over to the casket. He pulled the paper flower he had folded for Barry out of a takeout menu the night he and Barry eloped out of his pocket. Len wasn’t one to say things to nobody, so he didn’t speak, he just reached out and laid the battered, bent paper flower on top of the casket before stuffing his hands in the pockets of the black suit he wore. 

Barry had always loved him in a suit.

“I didn’t think you had showed up after all.” Len turned his head and saw a blonde woman approaching him. He turned to look at her face on and recognized her.

“Ms. Smoak,” he greeted quietly, nodding his head. “I didn’t think you knew who I was.”

She smiled tightly, eyes rimmed red from crying. “Barry told me a lot of things he didn’t share with everybody, I guess. Caitlin told me she told you about the funeral, but I just didn’t think you would really come.”

Len took a pained breath, ribs hurting with it, and glanced at the casket beside them. “Barry was my husband. He would have been one of two people to come to my funeral had it been the other way around.”

She smiled sadly. “He probably would’ve been busy trying to undo it all, but… we can’t all run back in time,” she said, shaking her head. “I just-“ She sniffled. “I think I got it better than anybody else did, you know? You. And Barry.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Nobody is perfect. Doesn’t mean somebody isn’t still worth being loved.”

“Barry was,” he whispered, voice breaking slightly. He cleared his throat and turned away. “Excuse me,” he breathed and she, to his surprise, pulled him into a hug. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he patted her lightly on the back as she squeezed him.

When she left – with Oliver Queen, no less – Len turned to slip away and was stopped by Iris. She looked at him and then held out her hand. “Dad wanted to give this to you.”

Len held out his hand and, when she dropped Barry’s wedding ring into it, he nodded slowly. “Thank you, Iris.”

She sniffled. “Of course Barry would elope and not tell me,” she said, laughing wetly. “And I bet it was his idea, huh?”

“You know him too well,” Len confirmed, making her roll her eyes and smile. He looked down and slid Barry’s ring – slightly larger than his own, but not much – onto his thumb for the time being. “I’m really sorry,” he said softly, forehead scrunching as his throat worked. “The guy that- he was on my team. And he was trying to shoot me. Barry died cause somebody wanted to kill me and sucked at doing the job, and I’m so sorry.”

Iris shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Leonard. It never was.” She looked him in the eyes. “You’re going to find the man who did this, aren’t you?” she asked and Len nodded silently. “Dad wants to find him the right way, but I-“ She hesitated, looking away.

Len raised an eyebrow. “You want me to do it my way?” he asked and she sniffled, but nodded minutely. “I would’ve never guessed that of you.”

“I wouldn’t either, but Barry was my best friend,” she whispered. “I want- I want whoever took him from me to pay, and I don’t care if it’s prison or the ground, I just don’t want him to get away.”

“He won’t,” Len said weakly, voice hoarse. He sucked in a breath, looking down as he grimaced, forehead crinkling. “I- I know it doesn’t mean much now, but I really loved him.” He looked up at Iris. “You’re his family. You’ve known him longer than anybody, and I feel like nobody else really understands him enough to really believe that he wasn’t stupid enough to fall for a trick. Barry married me because I loved him and he loved me. We weren’t some joke, or some trick. It was real.” He exhaled shakily and then swallowed hard. “I just want someone to believe that.”

Iris looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Leonard, of course, I believe that.” She reached out and, much to his horror, wiped a tear that had trailed down his cheek away. “I didn’t know you were married, but I knew he loved you. Even when everybody thought he was crazy, he never stopped believing that you were a good person deep down, and he loved you for it. And you’re too weird of a guy to marry somebody for the hell of it,” she said and he managed a wet laugh. “I know you loved him and he loved you.”

Len smiled sadly. “Thank you.”

Iris hugged him and he let her, closing his eyes when she kissed his cheek. “Do whatever you have to do, Leonard Allen.”

Len’s heart broke just a little bit more when he turned and walked away with Iris’s voice saying his name ringing in his ears.

~

_Len smiled as he looked across the pillows at Barry. “Your hair’s a mess,” he teased, reaching out to ruffle Barry’s hair._

_Barry rolled onto his front, putting his arm across Len’s chest. “Yeah, cause you won’t stop messing with it.” Barry flattened out his hand on Len’s chest, smiling down at it. “We’re going to get so much hell for this,” he said, and Len looked down at Barry’s hand and reached up to stroke the ring on his finger._

_“I’m fucking insane for doing this,” Len said with a grin and Barry laughed, leaning his head over to rest on his forearm. “Oh, Kid, what’ve you gotten me into? I cannot believe you talked me into this.”_

_Barry gave him an offended gasp. “First off, you really shouldn’t call me ‘kid’, you’re my_ husband _,” he said and Len’s heart skipped a beat at the word even now, after he had heard it a dozen times. “And second, I do believe you were the one who said ‘hey, we should get married’,” he accused._

_Len hummed, reaching up to brush his fingertips along Barry’s cheek. “Yeah, see, I was joking, you’re the one who went all ‘screw it, let’s do this!’ on me,” he said with a smirk. “You clearly have mind control powers. I don’t even like you, Mr. Allen,” he teased._

_Barry leaned in with a little grin. “Well, you damn well should’ve said that before you married me,_ Mr. Allen _.” Len caught Barry’s chin between his fingers and tipped Barry’s lips to meet his, smiling against Barry’s mouth. Barry sighed happily into the kiss. When it broke, he leaned his face into Len’s hand affectionately. “That won’t ever not be weird. I cannot believe you took my name, Len.”_

 _“Why would I want to keep such a terrible last name when ‘Allen’ is an option?” Len asked simply. “That bastard is the reason I had that name, how better to give a posthumous ‘fuck you’ to my old man than take my_ husband’s _name?” He smirked. “All the beatings for being a ‘fag’ before I took Lisa and ran off, and look at me now.” He stroked Barry’s bottom lip with his thumb, watching closely as Barry’s eyes dilated a little, in spite of their serious conversation topic. “Married to a man half my age who is good and honest and practically a boy scout.”_

_Barry beamed. “Two years ago, we were trying to take each other out. Look at us now.”_

_Len’s smile faltered a bit. “It was a bit more than two years for me, Scarlet, but yes. I do remember.” He dropped his hand to curl around Barry’s on his chest. “You were right. I did have good in me. And I would’ve never know without you. You make me want to be good, Barry Allen.”_

_Barry leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of Len’s hand where it held his own. “You make me happy, Leonard Allen,” he replied and Len closed his eyes, freeing his hand from Barry’s so that he could wrap both his arms around his new husband, pulling him close. Barry just went with it, tucking his face into Len’s neck as he held him close. “I love you, Len. That’s all that matters,” Barry whispered, and Len nodded, kissing his temple._

_“I love you, too, Red.”_

When he snapped awake, Len could still feel the phantom warmth against his body, and it was like losing Barry all over again. 

Their relationship started with, for the most part, just lust. They had one of their normal face-offs, where Barry caught him swiping some jewels, and they taunted one another for a bit. However, when Barry grabbed him and whisked him away from the scene and pinned him to some random alley wall miles away, his searching hands as he tried to find the jewels Len had stashed sent sparks up Len’s spine. Len had smirked at the kid and commented about how he had thought Barry would at least buy him dinner first, but instead of making some stuttering remark, Barry had just grabbed his ass and winked at him. 

The next time they faced off, Len accidentally hurt a night guard, and Barry shouted at him until he finally snapped and just kissed Len, right there in the middle of a heist. They ended up screwing right there in the vault, and then saying cruel things to each other afterwards out of what Len knew even then was fear and confusion over what had happened. 

After that, it became a pattern. They would square off in front of others and then disappear together and have wild, passionate sex. Eventually it somehow morphed into wild, passionate sex and then spending the night. And then having conversations and getting to know each other as people. And eventually having arguments as a couple, going out when they both had down time, learning each other’s secrets, spending Barry’s birthday together, bickering over who drank the last of the milk at Len’s only apartment that nobody but Barry knew about and where Barry would come home to after work sometimes just so he could spend the night with Len, and before either of them knew it, it had been more than seven months and they were both so incredibly in love.

Len had been the one that, at random, after a thwarted heist ended in them making out behind the courthouse and giggling at the absurdity of that evening’s ‘battle’, suggested that they should get married. He was mostly joking at the time, but Barry had actually looked at him for a moment and simply said, ‘okay’. They got the papers, signed them, and then when it was time to go before a justice of the peace and actually get married, the only person they could find was Cisco, so they dragged him along. He had tried to warn them to stop and think but they ignored him and he couldn’t say _no_. 

The only person who either of them told was Lisa. Len called her and apologized for not telling her or letting her be there, but she didn’t believe him at first. The only way she did believe him was when he brought Barry to the apartment she was staying at and Barry confessed to her that he was The Flash. They had planned on Barry telling his friends and family, but Barry wanted to find the right time.

It hurt so much to think that that was only three weeks. Three weeks Len was married to Barry. Three weeks of sneaking into Joe West’s house and spending the night in Barry’s room with him only to sneak out in the morning. Three weeks of Barry trying to work out where all of Len’s safe houses were even though Len wouldn’t tell him. Three weeks of saying the words, ‘I love you’ to the only person he had ever said them to.

Len waited forty-five years on earth and God knows how long in the time stream to finally discover that he wasn’t impossible to love, only to have that taken from him after so little time. There was so much he was looking forward to learning about Barry, and to knowing about him, and to having Barry around to help him through, and he would never get to experience that.

Because Barry was gone, and it hurt worse than Len could have ever imagined something would.

~

Lisa watched him as he walked around, packing. “You’re going after Johnson, aren’t you?” she asked, and Len nodded.

“Richard Johnson is going to die, or I will,” he said tightly. “There is no other way this ends.”

Lisa nodded solemnly. “Want me to come with you?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I just lost my husband. I can’t risk losing my baby sister, too.”

Lisa grabbed him in a hug, crushing herself against his chest. “Lenny,” she whimpered and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hair. 

“I’ll be home when it’s finished, Lis,” he comforted, taking a moment close his eyes and hold her close. “But he has to pay.”

“I know,” she said softly, voice muffled against his chest.

~

It was times like this, kicking a junkie around in an alleyway to try and shake some answers out of the little tweaker, that Len missed Mick the most. Mick was physically intimidating in a way Len wasn’t. Len was intimidating because of his cold demeanor and his name being well known in this city. 

Also, Mick being with him would just make him feel better. They had had their problems, but beneath it all, Mick was his friend. As he tossed the little rat around, he needed a friend, because all he could hear was apologies when he wanted answers and it made him begin to _feel_ again. Every time the guy mentioned The Flash he wanted to slam his boot into the skinny little throat he had on him and crush his breath from his body for daring to bring up Len’s husband.

“I don’t care what it takes,” Len snarled, slamming the thin, light body against hard, cold brick. “I want Johnson’s last known location. _Now_.”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t know-“

“YOU WERE SEEN WITH HIM YESTERDAY!” Len snarled, already sick of this shit. “I swear to you, I will smash your skull with my bare hands,” he hissed. “Fucking tell me where he is.”

“KEYSTONE, HE’S RAN TO KEYSTONE!” he sobbed, panicking. “Please, Man, I told you, I-“

“Yes,” Len sneered. “You did.” He slammed the kids head into the wall – just to knock him out, not kill him – and then dropped him without any care. He turned and stalked back to the mouth of the alley to where his bike was waiting. He didn’t know where in Keystone to start looking, because that wasn’t his turf, but he had a started at least.

And he knew just who to ask for help.

~

Len walked into the bar and spotted Reston leaning against the pool table nearest the bar. He walked over to the bar at that end and took a seat, gesturing for the bartender with one finger. When she came to take his order, he spoke loud enough so that Reston would hear his voice.

Sure enough, he felt a presence at his shoulder just as the bartender dropped off his beer. “Captain Cold. I heard you disappeared.”

“That so?” he asked, taking a long drink off his beer.

Teddy Reston slid onto the stool beside him. “Something about the demise of The Flash being your work and you went underground.”

Len’s stomach turned at the thought that everybody thought _he_ was responsible for killing The Flash. “Something like that,” he said tightly. “I’m looking for someone. One of my… crew,” he said in a disgusted tone. “Somebody that did something that has a bullet with his name on it.”

“Oh yeah?” Teddy asked, voice full of surprise though he kept it in check. “He didn’t hurt your sister, did he?” he asked worriedly. “Because if I found out somebody like that was in my city…” He trailed off but Len knew where he was going. There were different types of criminals, and one thing that most every one of them agreed with was that rapists were scum who poisoned the streets the rest of the respectable thieves and con artists ran on.

“No,” Len said quietly. “But he took something of mine. Something I can’t ever get back. And I plan on making him pay.”

Teddy nodded. “What’s the name?”

“Richard Johnson,” Len said. “Never ran with a crew before I gave him a shot, and I learned why the hard way,” he added.

Teddy looked around the bar. “I don’t know where he is, but I think I know who you mean.” He shuffled some. “We hear about new people coming through. There’s talk of somebody mugging folks down by the river. If he’s the type, then that’s probably him, because we do our job to keep the violent crime to a minimum, you know.” He bowed his head towards the photo hanging over the bar. Len saw a photo of Reston senior, the one who had been killed during a heist a few years back. “Old man’s honor, and all.”

“I had a similar deal,” he agreed. “Central is my city and stealing is a lot different than hurting somebody.” He finally turned to face Reston head on for the first time. “But this bastard destroyed any chance of me not putting a bullet between his eyes.”

Teddy saluted him with his drink and Len downed the rest of his beer before standing up. He threw a twenty down on the bar and turned to leave. He had a lead now. “Hey Snart.” He stopped and waited for Reston to continue. “He’s the one, isn’t he?” Len turned his head and saw Teddy looking right at him. “You said you had a code. I’m betting that didn’t include killing superheroes, so he’s the one that did it, isn’t he?”

Len just turned and walked out, not answering either way, even though he knew no answer was as good as answering this time.

~

Checking into a seedy motel, Len was bombarded with memories of him and Mick and Lisa on the run. Len was only seventeen when he took Lisa and he and Mick started a life of petty crime together. Most of their nights were spent in shitty motel rooms where nobody would ask questions about why seventeen and eighteen year old boys and a six year old girl were shacking up. Len did everything he could to keep Lisa out of the business, but when it came to it, his father had taught him from an early age how easily a little kid could rob somebody blind. He had never meant for them to continue on a life of crime, but Lisa was as fast of a learner as he had been, Mick was too unstable for anything other than crime, and Len _had_ kidnapped Lisa, so there was nothing else to do.

By the time Lisa was twelve, she was a pro at pretending she had lost her mommy and stealing the jewels right off some lady’s fingers. By the time she was fifteen, Len and Mick both had a reputation for beating the shit out of anybody that tried to mess with her. 

The first person Len ever killed was a grown ass man who cornered Lisa in the booth they had left her at while Len and Mick were hustling pool and put his hand up her skirt since she was stuck between the table and the wall and he was twice her size. She screamed when touched her, alerting half the bar what he was trying to do to her. Len and Mick were both across the bar before he could even get his hand back out from under her skirt before Len dragged him out of the booth. 

By then, everybody who knew Len and Mick knew not to fuck with Lisa Snart, but that guy hadn’t taken the hint. Len had dragged his ass outside and kicked the shit out of him for trying to put his hands on a sixteen year old girl, only the guy dug a knife out of his pocket, and though he got one cut across Len’s forearm, Len got the knife from him and buried it in his gut.

Len had managed to reach twenty-seven years old before he killed anybody, and as he lay on a musty motel bed looking at his and Barry’s rings while thinking about his youth, he realized that Barry had killed even younger than him, and he was the life-long criminal. 

Barry never wanted to hurt anybody, but Len hoped he would’ve understood why Len had to kill the person who had taken him away from Len. 

~

For three days, Len chased down leads about Richard Johnson around Keystone. He went through some of the most reliable channels and finally got a lead, only to come up on him fleeing the scene of a robbery gone bad. Len had almost got arrested for that one himself because he’d gotten there just before the cops. He spent all night running from the cops before he finally got away clean. When he finally hunted down Johnson’s accomplice in that robbery, he wasted no time kidnapping him and taking him to an empty warehouse on the outskirts of town where nobody would hear them. 

It had been a long time since Len shot someone with a gun with bullets, but it was no less satisfying. 

The man screamed as Len shot him in the other foot. “Now how about we try this again.” He crouched down in front of the man who was now on the floor. “Richard Johnson. Where did he go?” he asked slowly.

He grabbed a dirty handful of long, scraggly hair and the guy shook his head rapidly. “I don’t know, man, I don’t kno-NO!”

Len pressed the gun against the kneecap nearest him. “Look, Marty,” he said, grinding the muzzle against the man’s dirty jeans. “You knocked over a liquor store with him last night. Shot the clerk,” he added. “That old man’s knee won’t ever be the same.” He looked Marty right in the eyes and pulled the trigger. Marty screamed and heaved, and Len just snatched him back up by his hair, pressing the gun barrel into his other knee. “Now TELL ME!” he roared.

“St-Star City!” he choked out, terror in his eyes. “He heard you were looking for him and- and decided to try it in Star! Please, Man, don’t kill me!”

Sneering, Len stood up straight. “You aren’t worth the bullet. I’ve gotta save that for Johnson,” he said, and then kicked Marty in the head, knocking him out cold. “But I do hope the cops find you before you bleed out,” he said to the unconscious man as he turned and left, not really caring either way whether he lived or died.

Len had a new place to get to, and fast. He had to get back to his bike and get to Star City before Johnson could run off somewhere else.

~

He had only been in Star City for about six hours when he found himself face to face with the Green Arrow. 

Len had been walking down an alley towards what he’d been promised was a gang hideout where he could find someone ho would know about new players on the board in Star City when a tell-tale arrow struck the wall across from him and the Green Arrow zipped down a line and landed feet away from him. “What’re you doing in my city, Cold?” he asked, voice morphed comically.

Raising an eyebrow, Len hummed. “Well you sure don’t waste any time, Mr. Queen. Do you know the comings and goings of every single citizen of Star City?” he asked mildly, only to have a bow drawn and an arrow pointed right at his face.

“How do you know who I am, Snart?” he demanded and Len grimaced.

He reached up and nudged the arrow away from his face with one finger. “First off, we have a couple of mutual friends from the whole ‘traveling through time with Ray Palmer and Sara Lance’ thing. Second,” he said, narrowing his eyes at him. “My name isn’t Snart, it’s Allen.” Queen’s eyes widened and he lowered the bow. “I see Ms. Smoak is trustworthy if she didn’t tell even you about that little tidbit.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked again, and Len sneered coldly.

“I’m tracking down the man who murdered my husband.” He nodded down the alley “I’ve been told there’s a villains bar down there, but somehow I doubt it if you’re here,” he said bitterly. “I tracked him to Keystone, but he botched a robbery and ran for Star City before I could get my hands on him.”

Queen reached up and touched his ear. “Did you get all of that Felicity?” he asked, and Len chuckled in amusement. He looked back and nodded to Len’s bike back at the mouth of the alley. “Follow me. Felicity says she’s going to help you find the person who killed her friend.” Len fell into step with him instantly. “And I want to know exactly how long I didn’t know Barry was married.”

Len got to his bike and then looked at Queen, then back at the bike. “You’re not expecting a ride, are you? Because I’m pansexual and that’s still a little too gay for me, Queen.”

He rolled his eyes behind the hood and stalked away down the street. “I have my own, you idiot,” he said and Len chuckled.

“Of course you do.”

~

Len kept one hand on his gun as he was led into what he remembered Barry calling ‘the Arrow cave’. He didn’t trust Queen. He couldn’t take the chance to, honestly. He couldn’t trust too easily these days, because it cost him a lot sometimes. 

“Huh,” he said, looking around. “It’s like STAR Labs but… more ominous,” he said as they walked through a control center towards where Felicity Smoak sat in front of a monitor. 

She turned around and waved with a small smile. “Hi, Len,” she said and he bowed his head in greeting. “The guy that…” She trailed off and sniffed. “He’s here, then? In Star City?”

Nodding, he looked around. “He is, and something tells me you can help me find him.” He looked back to her and bowed his head. “That is, if you’re willing.”

Oliver took off his mask and walked over to lean against the table behind Felicity, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve lost too many friends already,” she said quietly. “We can’t let the ones who do these things keep getting away with it.”

“You do realize he isn’t going to Iron Heights,” Len said in a softer tone, knowing he needed to be delicate with the matter. “When I find him, I’m going to kill him. And I’m going to take great pleasure in doing so,” he said coldly. “Can you live with that?”

Felicity flinched, but nodded in quick little movements. “I don’t enjoy the thought, but…” She shook her head. “Holding back hasn’t helped that often. I wish you would let us catch him, but Barry-“ Her voice cracked and Oliver’s hand on her shoulder visibly tightened.

“Barry was your husband, so we recognize that this isn’t our fight,” Oliver said. “He was our friend, but you deserve to do what you have to do.” He shook his head. “I know nothing would stop me if I was in your place. I only ask that you think about what Barry would want you to do before you do it. I won’t try and stop you,” he added. “Whatever you choose, we’ll help you locate the guy and then leave you alone. But think about it.”

Len huffed. “Barry kept trying to convince me I’m a good man, and I started to believe it while I was traveling through time, even.” He looked up and met Oliver’s eyes, holding his gaze. “But whatever good there was in me is a shriveled up little slice compared to the fact that I’m a thief and a murderer and a very dangerous man. Barry’s not here anymore, and Leonard Snart is dead. It doesn’t matter what Barry would want me to do, because some bastard murdered him,” he finished simply. “I’m just going to repay the favor.”

Felicity nodded and turned to her computer, getting into the systems she needed to find Richard Johnson. Oliver looked at Len and stood up straight. “Once this job is done, I expect you to leave this city. I really feel for you, Allen, but if you decide to start up a crime spree once you’re finished, I won’t hesitate to take you down.”

“I’ll be out of your hair within the hour after I put a bullet in the man who killed Barry,” Len promised, and he meant it. He didn’t want to fuck with Oliver Queen. He had a feeling he wasn’t as big on ‘rehabilitation’ as Barry had been, and he didn’t want to test it and find it.

~

Len lay on one of the tables, his feet up as he tossed a random metal ball he had found up and caught it repeatedly. Oliver had left some time ago to find someone or do something and Len had found a spare Arrow suit to ball up like a pillow and laid on a table to try and take a nap. He was exhausted. He didn’t sleep much these days. However, he couldn’t rest, so when he found the metal ball in the jacket, he got bored and started throwing it up and catching it. 

His rhythmic routine of toss, catch, toss, catch, was interrupted with a skinny hand with short, polished nails reached out and caught it . “Rude,” he purred and she raised an eyebrow at him behind her glasses.

“This is a grenade,” she said, and Len blinked, freezing as she took it and sat it on a shelf. 

“Apologies,” he said slowly, turning to look at her. “Are you done already” he asked, and she shook her head, leaning on the side of the table across from him.

“Facial recognition is running now. It’ll take a while,” she said. She giggled slightly. “His parents clearly hated him. Richard Johnson. Dick Johnson. His name is Penis Penis,” she said, and Len groaned, rolling his eyes.

“No wonder you and Barry got along so well. You’re both _children_ ,” he accused lightly and she just smiled.

“I’ll have you know that I am only a few months younger than Barry, and we’re both actually adults,” she teased.

Len sighed heavily. “Still old enough to be your father,” he said, and she gave him a surprised look. He nodded slowly. “Eighteen years older than my husband,” he clarified. “Well, mathematically. In reality, with the time travel and being dead for a little while, I’ve probably lived more than twenty years more than you two.” He shook his head. “I’m old, Ms. Smoak,” he sighed. “Enjoy your youth.”

She chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, I’ve sure been doing that.” She looked at him and shook her head. “My life is complicated, and it’s life or death every single day, and this life is fun until the people you love are murdered. It’s terrible, and life-sucking, and I just want to go back to the life Oliver and I had built far away from here sometimes, but it’s not who we are.”

“At least you still have him,” Len offered, trying not to drag her down to his level of bitter at life.

“I don’t, though,” she said sadly. “Not really.” She shook her head. “We’re not together. Not anymore.”

Len raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why not? I had assumed-“

“It’s… complicated,” she said in a lighter tone. “Very complicated. He lies and hides things to try and protect me, and I can’t take that. It’s better like this,” she added. “We’re still in each other’s lives this way. We can still spend time together, and he’s still my best friend in everything. We’re partners without the messy romantic problems.”

Len hummed. “So you find it better to just spend all your time with the man you love, worrying about him, taking care of him, helping him out, backing him up in every day… and not getting laid,” he said pointedly and she spluttered, blushing.

“I- that’s- that is not the only difference-“

“Oh,” Len added. “So no sex, not living together, and trying to ignore the fact you love him,” he corrected. 

She groaned. “It’s more complicated than that. That’s simplifying the matter.”

Len chuckled. “I think you’re complicating the matter, myself, but that’s just me.” He held up his hand with both his and Barry’s rings on it. “Why complicate something as simple as ‘I love you and want to share my life with you’? Especially if you already share your life with him.”

Felicity sighed. “You make it sound unrealistically simple.”

“Maybe that’s what’s wrong with you ‘good guys’,” Len joked. “You have very complicated lives. Mine has always been simple: don’t get caught, don’t get killed, don’t let anything happen to my sister. And then after Barry, I just added ‘love Barry’ on there.”

She hummed, twirling a piece of hair. “Maybe I should become a bad guy,” she mused and he chuckled at how serious she looked. Felicity looked at him. “Seems like you and Barry were perfect contrasts to each other. He cared so much about so many people, and you were there to care about pretty much just him. He needed someone to make up for how little he focused on himself.” 

“I did,” Len said with a sad smile. “And now he’s been dead almost as long as we were married.” He turned, staring up at the ceiling. “Johnson was trying to shoot me. Barry could dodge bullets, but he wasn’t expecting it. Johnson wouldn’t have killed him if he had been aiming at him. But he missed me and it hit an unsuspecting Barry. Right in the heart. He could’ve healed if it hit him anywhere else,” he said bitterly. “Only reason he didn’t die instantly like a normal person is probably because his body tried to heal and just couldn’t in time.”

Felicity sniffed suspiciously and nodded. “I get why you want to get Johnson. I would too.” He glanced at her reflection in the metal of the cabinet behind her and she had a dark look on her face. “If it was Oliver…” She trailed off and looked away. “Bad enough it was Barry.”

Len closed his eyes and crossed his arms under his head again. “Just let me know when the trace is finished.”

~

_Barry stood in front of him, naked, holding out his hand. “Come on, Lenny,” he purred, and Len took his hand, letting Barry pull him to his feet. Len had no idea where Barry wanted to go, but Barry was naked and Len was a weak man when it came to how beautiful Barry was naked. Barry pulled him along until they reached a balcony. Far below them – almost too, really – lay a city street, and here Barry was, standing naked._

_“What are you doing, Barry?” Len asked, sliding his arms around Barry’s middle. He rested one hand on Barry’s lower back and the other on his ass, making Barry smirk at him._

_“What do you think, Lenny?” he asked, tracing his finger along Len’s collarbone. Len looked down and realized that he, too, was naked. “You’re being strange,” Barry said, sliding his arms around Len’s neck. He ducked to press their foreheads together and Len was always amused by the fact that Barry was just slightly taller than him. He was such a wiry build that his height made him seem even skinnier. “Kiss me,” Barry whispered and Len turned his head just enough to take Barry’s lips in a kiss. Barry’s soft, warm lips felt like coming home, and Len couldn’t figure out why that was. He raised a hand to cup the base of Barry’s skull, fingers sliding through his hair. Just as he started to deepen the kiss, he tasted the unmistakable tang of salty, coppery blood._

_When he pulled back, he saw that Barry was now lying on the ground in a cold, dark street with blood leaking from his lips as his eyes stared blankly into the distance. He startled back with a cry-_

“Ah!” he cried, feeling the brief sensation of falling before slamming into the floor with a grunt of pain. 

“Oh my God, are you okay?!” Len looked up and saw Felicity rushing over. He pushed himself up onto his knees and realized he had been asleep and, in his dream, had kicked and fallen off the table.

He made his way to his feet with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, stretching his arms up over his head. He shook his head, trying to drive away the phantom taste of blood and the feel of Barry’s lips on his. He rubbed his hands over his face and then over his head, trying to wake himself up.

“We have the trace.”

Len was instantly awake.

~

Twelve hours after he arrived in Star City, Len leveled his gun at Johnson as he knelt before him, sniveling and begging. Felicity’s trace had took him to a warehouse on the water and when he arrived, Johnson spotted him and ran for it. It took a few hours to chase him down again, and he managed to corner him in a park where there was a fence along the waterfront and no way for him to get past Len without being shot. 

Johnson had cracked and fell to his knees, trembling and crying. Clearly he’d been afraid of Len catching him. “Please, I don’t- I don’t wanna die, Man, I don’t-“

“You should’ve thought about that before you pulled that trigger,” Len spat, shaking with rage. “You’re lucky I’m kind enough to make this quick-“ 

Len started to lift the gun to point right between his eyes, but he was interrupted by a sound he hadn’t heard in an incredibly long time. He turned his head, eyes wide as he watched something he never thought he would see again: the Waverider landing in the clearing behind them.

When the ramp lowered, four people came out quickly – Firestorm and Palmer flying, Sara and Mick running – and he watched them approach with shock and confusion. “Drop the gun, you- holy shit, is that Cold?” he heard Firestorm shout.

“Leonard?” Sara asked in surprise, lowering her staff as she approached. “You-“

“Thought you were dead?” Mick asked, looking incredibly confused. 

Palmer landed, lifting the helmet of his suit. “Uh… am I hallucinating, or is Snart alive?”

Len looked around the clearing, then down at the guy kneeling before him, and then turned back to the others with a shrug. “Not dead.”

“Mr. Snart, please lower your weapon.” Len looked around and saw that Rip had finally shown up, coming from the other direction. Clearly he had circled around so they surrounded him.

“Hello, Rip,” Len drawled, pressing the gun against Johnson’s forehead. “Sorry, I can’t really do that.”

Sara was the one to take a step forward. “Hey, listen to me, even if you don’t remember us, you have to know you’re not a killer. Just lower the gun-“

“I remember you all, Sara,” he said simply, growing tired. He was so tired after all his hunting. “And I’m going to kill him.” He started to pull the trigger, only to be startled out of it by a shout.

“DO NOT pull that trigger, Mr. Snart! Please!” Rip shouted. “Listen to me.”

Len looked up at him. “I don’t know what you’re doing here and I don’t care.” He put the gun back to Johnson’s head.

And was immediately hit in the side of the head so hard he instantly saw blackness.

~

When Len woke up, he knew immediately he was in the Waverider med-bay, because after being knocked out, he should’ve woken up groggy and in pain. Instead, he had been treated by futuristic means. He sat up, looking around, and saw no one. They had stopped him from killing Johnson, and he was pissed.

Len stormed through the Waverider, remembering it quite well, and made his way to the bridge. When he got there, they were all standing around talking. “What the fuck did you do?!” he snarled, stalking right up to Rip, only to be grabbed by Mick. “Mick, get your hands off me. I know you punched me,” he hissed.

“Mr. Snart, what the hell are you doing alive, nonetheless _trying to murder_ someone?” Rip asked plainly. “You died, so you shouldn’t be a version of you that remembers us and still murderous-“

“Where is Johnson,” he demanded. “If you let him get away after I finally found him, I swear to God-“

There was a hand placed gently on his arm and he looked down to see Sara standing there. “Len, we locked him up. Clearly, if you were trying to kill him, we figured something was up.”

“Yes, Mr. Snart,” Stein said from across the room. “We-“

“That isn’t my name,” Len said tightly. “Now, give me a gun and I’ll finish what I started.”

Rip spluttered. “Why do you think we’re here?! You cannot kill that man! We got a report that something had irreparably altered the timeline, so we came to stop it. Richard Johnson is going to invent something that changes the course of humanity, and if you kill him today, the entire species is doomed in another century.”

Len’s heart skipped a beat. They were serious. He knew they wouldn’t let him kill him now. Len shook his head. “He has to die. He has to. I don’t care what the timeline says, he isn’t going to invent shit-“

“Look, Snart,” Jax started, and Len wheeled on him.

“THAT IS NOT MY NAME!” he roared. “And I don’t give a fuck what he is supposed to do-“

Rip sighed. “Humanity’s existence depends on him-“

Len gritted his teeth, eyes burning with tears of rage. “They can all burn,” he said coldly.

Everyone stilled at that. “Look, Snart, I’m sure it seems bad-“

“He murdered someone I love, Raymond,” Len said, looking him in the eyes. 

Mick gasped beside him. “Lisa?! Fuck, Snart-“

Len closed his eyes. “Lisa is fine, and for the last time, that isn’t my name.” He looked around. “My name is Leonard Allen, and he murdered my husband.”

“ _Husband_?” Ray asked. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone, I sort of thought you and Sara-“

“It’s been a while, Raymond,” Len said tiredly. “I don’t know what your timeline is like right now, but I’ve been living in Central for over a year, and before that, I have no idea how long I spent floating in the time stream after my ‘death’, but it’s been a very long time since I was here with all of you.” He turned to face Rip. “I spent what felt like ages lost in a looped dreamscape of nothing and when I finally got sent home and found the first happiness I’ve ever had, that man destroyed my life,” he said in a pained whisper. “I honestly don’t care if the entire fate of humanity hinges on his life, because he dies tonight.”

Rip gave him a solemn look. “I understand your pain, Mr. Snart, but you have to understand-“

“My name is _Allen_ ,” Len snapped. “And what is there to understand?! He murdered _Barry_ , how the hell does he get to live on to invent anything worth anything after killing someone who has to be far more valuable to the future?!”

“ _Allen_ as in Barry Allen?!” Stein asked incredulously. “You, Captain Cold, went back and _married_ Barry Allen?”

Sara hummed “Allen, Allen. Barry Allen sounds familiar to me. Why is that?” she asked, tapping her chin.

“Dude, because he’s The Flash,” Jax said, and Mick seemed to choke on his spit.

He looked at Len like he’d grown another head. “You married The Flash?”

“Barry’s dead?” Ray asked in a softer tone and Len looked at him. Ray’s big, brown eyes were wide. “You married Barry and then he was killed?”

Len nodded, swallowing hard. “We were only married three weeks when that man _shot him in the heart_ ,” he spat out. “The only way you’ll stop me from killing him is if you kill me first.”

“Wait, hang on a minute,” Rip said suddenly. “Barry Allen cannot be dead, it is at least six years before he even goes missing. Also, I’m fairly certain he was married to a woman, not a man.”

Len flinched. “You think I would lie about something like that?” he asked, voice shaking. “He died in my arms, Rip, I think I know what I’m talking about.”

Rip shook his head and raised a finger, rounding the table. “Gideon, please check the timeline for Barry Allen, also known as The Flash.”

“Barry Allen is subject to an anomaly,” Gideon replied smoothly. “His timeline is not settled. It is in flux. It appears there are multiple timelines, one of which is the previously believed to be concrete future in which he married Iris West-Allen and disappears in twenty-twenty-four.”

Rip frowned. “How is that possible? Multiple timelines from our point of view should not exist. You have the definitive timeline from the vanishing point.”

“It is as I said, Captain,” Gideon repeated. “His timeline is in flux.”

Len shook his head, swallowing hard. “It shouldn’t be anything, because he’s _dead_ ,” he said through gritted teeth.

Stein bowed his head. “I am so sorry, Mr. Sn-“ He stopped, smiling apologetically. “Mr. Allen.” He looked at Rip. “Assuming that the time is in flux, perhaps there is something we could do? Someone must be messing with the time stream if that a dead man still has a future?”

Rip looked up suddenly. “Unless we were always supposed to go back and change that.” Len’s heart stopped and he tried so desperately to stop the swell of _hope_ in his chest. It was a stupid, stupid thing, hope. It was something he had not let himself feel in decades. 

“What do you mean?” Len asked quietly.

“I mean, Mr. Allen,” Rip said without hesitation, “What if this was always meant to happen?” He ran around the table. “Gideon, is it possible that Mr. Allen’s timeline is in flux because we were always going to come back and stop Richard Johnson from being killed, learn about Mr. Allen’s untimely death, and go back and stop it?”

“It is not only possible, but it is probably the only explanation,” Gideon replied.

Rip slapped a hand on the table. “Strap in, everyone! Mr. Allen, when did you recruit Mr. Johnson?” he asked as he ran to his captain’s chair.

Len frowned. “The fourth, but why-“

“If we stop you from recruiting him, then he is never going to kill your husband, nor will he die at your hand in retaliation,” he said simply.

Everybody started strapping in, but Jax gestured to Snart. “What about him and Johnson in the brig? We can’t just take them and cause a paradox.”

Rip waved a hand. “It won’t matter, once we stop Johnson from joining whatever he was recruited for, they will both cease to exist. They will simply fade away and go back to where they were before.” He grabbed the handles. “Now hang on,” he said, and that was the last warning Snart had before the old, familiar sensation of time-jumping overcame him.

~

Len couldn’t go with them, obviously, to interrupt the meeting he’d had with Johnson in the past, and Sara and Mick volunteered to stay behind with him. Rip had explained that they would all remember what happened, even Mr. Johnson might remember it when he reached that future on his own, away from Snart and his Rogues, so Len didn’t mind talking to them for a while.

He really had missed his friends. “So Lisa’s alright?” Mick asked, looking worried.

Len nodded, smiling. “Yeah, she’s great. Misses you, but she’s great.” He chuckled. “Dating that nerd now.”

Mick grunted. “Doesn’t seem like you get a lot of room, since you married one.” He shook his head. “The _Flash_?”

Sara smirked. “Gideon let me see him. He’s a cutie,” she teased, and Len smiled weakly, looking down at his and Barry’s wedding rings.

“He was,” he said sadly. 

“Is,” she said supportively. “We’re fixing this. You’ll have him back.” Len leaned back against the bulkhead, exhaling worriedly. “You really love him, huh?” she asked, kicking him lightly.

Len swallowed hard, looking up at the lights. “He’s… different. That sounds cliché, but it’s true. We shouldn’t work. He’s young enough to be my son, he’s such a boy scout, he’s too selfless for his own safety, and he’s a _hero_ who goes out of his way to protect people.” He grinned. “And not just the metahuman speedster thing. He’s a CSI. He’s a genius who works for the police instead of some high-paying job because he wants to help people.” He chuckled. “But as crazy as that sounds, it works. He loves me just how I am. Shit, we still face off as Captain Cold and The Flash,” he said and Sara raised an eyebrow. “I agreed long before any of this to not kill people and he agreed to let me off on some of my heists, and we keep that going. It’s just fun. For both of us. He knows I won’t hurt anybody or try to hurt him, so he gets to practice on the real villains, basically.”

Sara poked him with a grin. “Awwwww, you’re smitten, Snart- I mean Allen.” She scrunched her nose. “You took his name. How twentieth century.”

“Snart’s the name of the man that tortured me as a child,” Len said simply. “I asked him if I could take his name, not the other way around.”

Mick punched him none too lightly in the arm. “I’m glad you’re alive,” he said brusquely. 

Len looked at him for a long time and nodded. “It’s been a long time since I saw you, and I’m glad you’re fitting here. It was always me and you and Lisa for the longest.”

Mick grinned. “It’ll be the three of us again someday. This hero crap is temporary,” he assured Len, who chuckled.

“It does get boring, huh?” 

“It appears Mr. Johnson has disappeared,” Gideon informed them. “You should be back home soon, Mr. Allen.”

Len took a deep breath, fear lancing through him. All he could think about was how anything could go wrong and keep him from saving Barry after all. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to find Rip and punch his teeth in,” Len said tightly. “I can’t live through losing Barry twice.”

Sara rubbed his wrist comfortingly. “It’ll work out.” His arm began to tingle under her hand and he flexed his fingers in confusion. She looked down and Len followed her gaze only to see his hand was disappearing. “Looks like they did it,” she said, and Len looked up at her just as everything went black.

~

“Len. Lenny.” Len grumbled unhappily, rolling over. He grabbed at the warmth beside him and tugged it against his chest, ignoring the surprised chuckle. “Lenny, Lisa has texted three times. I’m going to assume you guys are up to something. She might get mad if you miss a heist you planned.”

Len opened his eyes suddenly and the sleep-fuzziness cleared from his brain instantly. He was met with big, green eyes inches from his own. He sat up quickly, scrabbling for the lamp switch behind him without looking away from Barry. When the light came on, he reached out, touching Barry’s face. “Barr,” he breathed, sitting upright to pull Barry with him. He was dressed for work, and Len felt his throat closing up as he recognized them as the same outfit Barry wore to work the last day he saw him. “Oh God, Barry,” he choked out, suddenly overcome with emotion. He slid his hands over Barry’s chest and arms, touching him to be sure it was real this time. “Barry,” he whispered, eyes blurring with tears. 

“Len?” Barry asked, humor gone from his features. “Len, what’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling on the bed to catch Len’s hands, pulling them into his own. “Why are you _crying_?!” he asked, clearly worried. He reached out and felt of Len’s forehead, and Len laughed wetly, swatting his hand away.

“I don’t have a fever,” he said, pulling Barry into his arms suddenly. He held him close, tipping back so that he dragged Barry down on top of him, hugging him with his entire body. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he whispered, repeating it as he clung to Barry. 

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m okay?” Barry asked, looking at Len curiously. “Lenny, what’s going on?”

Len reached out for his phone and looked to confirm it: it was the morning of the day Barry died. “They did it,” he sighed, dropping his phone on his chest. He laughed weakly, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had come unbidden from his relief. Vaguely, he could remember both his initial recruitment of Johnson and, now that he tried, a version in which Johnson never showed up so he wrote him off and ignored the call when Johnson called him a day later. He reached out and caught Barry’s hand, stroking a fingertip over his wedding ring. He opened his eyes and picked up his phone again. “I’ve got to cancel tonight’s plans. Just in case,” he said, texting an abort to Lisa and the others.

“Lenny, you’re scaring me,” Barry said quietly, catching Len’s hand to lace their fingers together instead of let him stroke his ring. “What’s going on?” Len suddenly rolled them both over, pinning Barry to the bed. Barry squeaked in surprise, but then smiled up at him and rolled his eyes. “As much as I’d love whatever you’re planning, I’ve got to go to work.”

Len shook his head, looking down at Barry. “Call in sick. Please?” He brushed his fingertips along Barry’s hairline. He looked over his face. “Let’s go somewhere today and come home in a day or so. Get out of the city. Go away from our normal lives.”

Barry looked up at him worriedly. “Len, is something bad going to happen in Central City today?”

“I promise you, nothing is going to happen, but I want us to go away anyways,” Len said carefully. He brushed his thumb over Barry’s cheekbone. “I’ll explain everything, every bit of it, but please,” he whispered sincerely. “Please let’s go somewhere else tonight.”

Barry looked into his eyes for a long while, and Len was sure that Barry was going to deny his request, but whatever Barry saw must have convinced him, because he nodded slowly and leaned into Len’s touch. “Okay. How about we catch the ten-thirty train to Chicago? I’m off tomorrow so we don’t have to come back until Monday morning.” 

Len exhaled and leaned his forehead against Barry’s. “I love you, Barry Allen. So much.”

Barry pecked his lips, hugging him around the middle. “And I love you, Leonard Allen,” he added with a grin.

“At least you get my name right,” Len murmured, kissing him quickly before climbing off of him. “Alright, you grab a bag, I’ll grab our toiletries when I’m done in the bathroom,” he said, and he could feel Barry’s eyes on him as he headed to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day.

“Len,” Barry called while Len stood at the sink. “You will tell me what all this is about, right?”

Len exhaled and smiled at his reflection. “The fact I’m able to be honest with you, Barry, is enough to make me not want to keep anything secret right now,” he replied through the door. “I’ll tell you everything as soon as we’re checked into a hotel in Chicago, I promise.”

There was a pause and then he heard Barry laughing softly. “Alright, I’ll trust you, but only because I’ve got decades to be suspicious of your sneaky shit, no reason to start now.”

It was the strangest thing and entirely unexpected, but as soon as Barry walked away from the door, Len burst into tears with his toothbrush halfway to his mouth, because Barry did have decades now, and Len got to spend those decades with Barry instead of weeks. He could remember the feeling of the exact moment Barry died in his arms just as freshly as he could remember how Barry looked when he was in his arms when they made love last night, and it was suddenly so very overwhelming to think about the fact that Barry was _safe_ now. 

It was the first time in his life that Len finally understood how it felt to cry because he was happy.


End file.
